


Not Another Teen Tit Flick

by poorbasil



Category: Marco Rubio - Fandom, Political RPF - US 21st c., Ted Cruz - Fandom, election 2016
Genre: 80s teen au inspired by ted's iconic aspirations video, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, constitutional corroborators, some OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:58:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6549772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poorbasil/pseuds/poorbasil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Constitutional Corroborators take a trip to Nevada for a convention. Ted meets a new friend, but will his innocent admiration turn into something more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Like it says in the tags, this is inspired by the awful (amazing) Aspirations of an 18 year old Ted Cruz video. The Ted in this fic is one of my interpretations of him as a teenager. 
> 
> Some background:  
> In high school Ted was a part of this gang called the Constitutional Corroborators and what they did basically was go to events where they'd write down sections of the Constitution by memory on white boards and then explain them. That's what all the popular kids did in high school right. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't treated yourself to viewing the beautiful picture of Ted Cruz with the gummy worm, look it up right now before you read this

The summer heat was sweltering, a hazy film seemed to have settled over the sky, tinting everything in sight with a blur. It wasn't a record high, but it certainly felt like it. Ted Cruz sighed more dramatically than intended, the exasperated sound slipping from his lips as he made to wipe the sheen of sweat coating his forehead (not his butt). His now sticky hand lingered atop his head, fingers forming a shield from the sun's burning intensity as he squinted up at the clear blue Nevada sky. 

 

_God, it was hot as balls._

 

Well, what had he expected, cruising across the desert in a van with no air conditioning or even a damn portable fan, add to that seven other fidgeting bodies to generate unwanted heat and Ted felt like he just walked out of a life-sized metal soup can that some kid left out baking in the summer heat for "an experiment." He shook his head. The heat was definitely affecting his ability think coherently. 

 

_A soup can. Really, Ted._

 

While he lived for the duties being a Constitutional Corroborator entailed, he had to admit the whole process was quiet grueling. Loading up the rusty van with folding easels, large poster boards, and various other supplies they probably weren't going to make use of anyway, add to that the beating sun on his back as he hurled materials into the trunk, all made for an experience Ted would rather forgo. And not to mention he kept forgetting about the screws perpetually stuck jutting out of the easels which he proceeded to scratch himself on without fail each time he lifted the things.  

 

He wished Storey would just let him compete alone, but alas, he was forced to participate with the group. The simpletons. He practically had the whole Constitution memorized by heart; he didn't need a team. A scowl formed on Ted's face as he lowered his gaze. Perhaps he was letting the little things get to him. Maybe so. But he just felt extremely irritated for no profound reason.

 

"Hey, Ted! Get back over here!" Ted spun around at the shrill voice calling his name. It was one of his fellow corroborators, Samantha, a girl with long blonde hair always tied up in two ponytails on both sides of her head. Ted didn't grace her with an answer but responded to her words, walking back up the side walk to where the rest of the group stood. Samantha glared at him and he pretended not to notice her pointed stare. Of all the people he'd been forced to work with in his high school life, she really took the cake as the most vexing to his tolerance. Ted never intentionally alienated anyone, he wasn't a bully, but he preferred staying away from Samantha if he had the choice. She was a year ahead of him, a senior while he was a junior, and ever since the day they first met there was a certain tension between them.

 

He remembered it well, being a freshmen joining the Constitutional Corroborators. They'd gotten into a debate about the free market on the first day that quickly turned confrontational. The nerve of her to advocate for government intervention in business regulation when the constitutional clearly made no point for it. My god. Ted had hated her instantly. 

 

She was probably a closet commie. 

 

Samantha was without a shadow of doubt the most infuriating member of their group. It  _wasn't_  him, despite what he'd heard some of the other members say. He was popular now. Smoking pot and partying on Friday nights. That's what the cool kids did, and Ted Cruz was  _definitely_  a cool kid. 

 

Ted let out a soft huff of air as he joined the other students huddled together by the back door of the van, the sun burning the strip of exposed skin on his neck that wasn't covered by his white button down. He probably should have put more sunscreen on like his mother insisted. Unlike his Cuban father, Ted didn't tan very well, adopting a rather patchy redness to his skin when he stayed out in the sun too long. 

 

"Ted," Samantha addressed him, her perpetually condescending tone heightened by his presence.

 

 At least she wasn't calling him Rafael anymore.  

 

"Storey told us we're going to stop here for about 30 minutes and then go on," she looked straight at him as she spoke, absentmindedly flicking one of her ponytails behind her shoulder, her signature gesture. 

 

Ted nodded in response, his face tight despite the underlying glare in his eyes. He didn't need to stop. If it was just him alone then there would be no stopping.

 

 _Well, it's not just you_ ,  _Ted,_  another part of his brain reminded him.  Storey had pulled him aside yesterday before Ted got the opportunity to slip out of the practice room with the other members. 

 

"Ted," he had said, his voice riddled with the compassion only a mentor could achieve as he placed his hand on Ted's shoulder with a firm grasp. They'd been needing to have this conversation for a while now. 

 

"Son," he began, "I know this difficult for you, but I've been hearing some complaints-" but Ted had already stopped listening, tuning out his mentor's words. 

 

He already knew what the complaints were, knew where they came from and what they said about him when they thought he wasn't around. Hearing the words was just a bonus, he didn't need to heard them to know what his peers thought about him. It was all there in the way they looked at him when he entered a room. The shared glances and whispered exchanges, the muffled laughs behind their hands. 

 

Irritation.  

 

That summed up the overwhelming expression exhibited by his peers when he was there. Pure and unfettered irritation. 

 

Obnoxious, pretentious, and condescending were just some of the nicer things his peers had to say about him. 

 

Ted came back to reality when he realized Storey had stopped talking, waiting for him to respond, maybe even offer an attempt to defend himself. 

 

Well, that certainly wasn't going to happen. Ted was known to challenge authority, but he knew a losing battle when he saw one. He cleared his throat, schooling his face into a convincing mask of understanding and sincerity.

 

"Of course, sir. I do hold my peers to the highest esteem, esteem which I see now I haven't been conveying properly. I will try harder to show them the extent to which I regard them." He flashed a soft smile here, enhancing the sorry-school-boy look. 

 

Storey nodded and Ted knew he was convinced. The only problem now was that he had to be hyper sensitive of his actions for the next few days as they travelled. Well he wasn't president of the drama club for nothing. 

 

Ted followed the rest of the group, trailing slightly behind them as they all entered the modestly sized rest stop one after the other. Most of them veered off to the restrooms, but Ted didn't need to use the bathroom. He looked around the place. A massive shelf filled to the brim with brochures that've probably been there collecting dust for ages, lined the left side of the wall. Adjacent to that paper monstrosity was a coffee joint and a food court. To the right was little convenience shop. 

 

Ted decided to go there. 

 

There wasn't much inside. A case full of soda and sports drinks. A snack stand. A bin of assorted knickknacks. A rack filled with cheesy teen gossip magazines. 

 

Pretty standard.  

 

Ted glanced over at the magazine rack, quickly scanning the titles. His eyes landed on the latest issue of BOP which featured a half naked photo of Johnny Deep on the cover with the words " **get his summer bod** " printed in big bold red letters underneath. 

 

Ted turned his head away from the stand, concealing a blush. He didn't need any of those, he had his own subscription to  _Teen Beat_  coming in the mail each week, plus the last thing he needed was for his crew to find out that he read magazines with an almost exclusively female audience. 

 

Ted dragged his eyes from the stand and over to the candy section, searching for his favorite candy, gummy worms. 

 

Ah, found them.

 

He grabbed a bag, then paused for a moment before snatching up a second. It was going to be a long rest of the drive and the signal on his portable was already wavering as they drove deeper into the barren desert. 

 

He walked over to the cashier and casually dropped the bags onto the counter, not looking up as he shoved his hand into his pants pocket to fish out the coins he'd carelessly stuffed in there earlier. 

 

"Alright," he began, "here ya go-" but the words came to a halt as Ted's gaze drifted up, whatever other pleasantries he was going to say were pushed out his mind as his conscious thoughts became consumed with the sight before him.

 

A breathtaking beauty of a man, so surreal it rendered Ted in a state of speechlessness, unable to articulate another thought and afraid to do so out of the fear he may utter something socially unacceptable. The man before him was of a modest height and build, with a thick head of dark brown hair and hazel eyes set in a boyish face. His skin appeared soft and supple, glazed a golden tan by the sun's warming rays, a shade far superior to the burnt crisps that populated the outer rims of most desert states. There was an unexplainable about charm about him Ted was unaware could ever exist in a tangible form. From the slope of his nose, to the curve of his lips, he was intoxicating, the Hispanic version of Donatello's _David,_ both exuding unchecked youth and latent potential. Oh, and now he was smiling, the commonplace expression manifesting itself in a foreign way that seemingly conveyed the ethereal facets of man within the single upturn of his full lips. Ted had never known a smile to affect him so strongly before, the simple gesture redefined everything Ted knew about formalities. And now his perfect mouth was moving and he was talking and- 

 

"Uh," the cashier said, a wave of puzzlement washed over his face and broke Ted's trance. Ted paused for a moment, trying to deifier the causation for the shift in the cashier's countenance until he realized with a pang of embarrassment that he was clenching the money in his hand with a death grip like a fool. 

 

 _Way to make a first impression,_ he thought cynically, releasing his fist and dropping the coins into the man's waiting palm.

 

"Thanks," said the cashier as he calculated the amount of change to give back. Ted's eyes lowered down to the man's shirt were his name tag was pinned to his chest. 

 

 _MARCO,_  it read _._

 

Ted sneakedanother look at the cashier, studying the curvature of his chin as he looked down at calculator. He was soft, his jaw slightly rounded and undefined, with an extremely youthful manner about him, as if puberty had only half done its job.

 

Marco looked back one more time at his calculator, double checking the little numbers on the screen, before giving Ted the left over money and receipt back. 

 

Ted reached for the money and paper slowly with the hand that wasn't holding his gummy worms, crinkling the receipt and stuffing it and the change back into his pocket quickly before looking back up at the cashier. 

 

He flashed a grin, projecting the extent of his admiration through warm eyes and a tender tone. "Thank you... Marco," he said, trying to infuse his voice with a subtle sense of sensuousness but it fell flat and came off as sounding proportionally more nasally than usual. He stood there a moment too long, simply taking pleasure in appreciating the features of the man poised before him.

 

Marco fidgeted, slightly unnerved at the customer still standing there. He smiled shyly, "Ah, um, you're welcome," he said, not sure if that was what the other man was waiting for. 

 

Ted's smile widened a bit more before he gave a nod and finally dragged his eyes away from the cashier, exiting the shop with an awkward stumble he hoped Marco didn't catch. 

 

He looked down at the candy in his hand, ripping open a bag stuck a gummy worm into his mouth, biting the gelatin body distractedly as he walked back to the van. 

 

This was definitely going to be a long drive.   



	2. Ted Cruz is Not Homosexual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed to the new tags

The rest of the drive was just as dull as Ted foresaw. His team spent the majority of the time looking over their notes and rereading sections of the Constitution while quizzing each other on key aspects.

Ted didn't. He didn't need to study or review, he was just ready to get this whole thing over it. He wasn't sure what had come over him; he was usually much more excited and enthusiastic about debates, to the point that he knew his teammates found him exceedingly pompous.

He couldn't help it though; there were few things that could stimulate him as throughly as a passionate argument, although that did tend to pose a little (big?) problem from time to time.

Yet, as Ted lounged in the stiflingly hot van with his body half propped up against the backside of driver's seat, he couldn't seem to ignite that familiar arousal. His irritation from earlier had dissipated, the feeling that had been simmering under his skin and making him restless with anticipation was gone, leaving an odd sense of emptiness behind stemming from a source he couldn't pinpoint.

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the cushioned driver's seat. His portable Realistic Pocketvision 3 could only pick up one station so far out in the desert, a channel exclusively playing reruns of McGyver. The sound of voices was tuned down to the lowest volume as to be rendered a smooth, continuous, and indistinguishable murmur, only occasionally interspersed with the sharp sting of increasingly frequent static as they drove further. The noise calmed him in a strange way. Just voices he didn't have to focus on or analyze, his brain clear and mind relaxed. Well, that wasn't entirely true.

He couldn't stop thinking about the cashier from the rest stop.

Marco.

His gentle face and lopsided grin left Ted in a trance, his mind conjuring up multiple images of the other man like it was a film reel. The corners of his eyes crinkled painfully so as he squeezed them shut tight, his hands coming down to press against his legs. He tried to concentration on the feel of his skin against the fabric, on the pressure of his palms rubbing his boney knees caps in an attempt to ground himself and stop his mind from the sinful path awaiting just at the edge of his thoughts.

It was a futile endeavor. Ted's lips rounded upwards despite himself, involuntarily curving into a little smile as he remembered the all-too-brief feel of Marco's fingers brushing over his skin when the other man had handed him the receipt. He wondered what those hands felt like touching other things-

 _Dammit, Ted_. There was a time and a place and it certainly wasn't in the back of a cramped van filled with his peers, his very traditional Christian peers for that matter. They may be able to take it to a degree during practice, but here would be far too compromising of a place and not to mention visible.

He swallowed, guiltily suppressing the wound up knot forming in his stomach.

Ted knew it was wrong. The stray thoughts he often had. His uncontrollable tendency to let his friendly touches linger a tad too long on the legs of his sports teammates to be strictly casual. The elevated beating of his heart when he saw a glimpse of skin in the locker room, toned and glistening with fresh sweat. It was sinful and he knew it was wrong, was raised with the knowledge that it was unnatural to feel this way. He was often torn, between his impure thoughts and shameful desires with what he was destined to be. He'd learned to suppress this vile part of himself when it mattered. He'd learned exactly how to play the role he was meant to embody; he wasn't just president of the drama club for his good looks.

Ted bit into a gummy worm a little too forcefully, promptly decapitating the chewy candy and grinding his teeth together. He was going to stop thinking about Marco, stop thinking about the interpersonal side of human behavior aside from decisively cordial handshakes and formal engagements and focus on his lot in life, which, at this moment, was preparing for the debate.

With an inaudible sigh, Ted tucked the rest of his candy and portable T.V. into his travel bag and moved to the back of the van to review with his team. His personal problems would still be there to deal with after he won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited most of this (and uploaded it) on my phone so hopefully I didn't overlook too much by mistake.  
> A side note, I went to the rest stop the one in this fic is inspired by over the weekend! 
> 
> Marco returns next chapter


	3. Second Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been so absent. Life's a bitch. Too much has happened lately and my life is very sad now that Ted is gone.  
> RIP 5/3 never forget.

Ted grunted as he climbed up into the back of the van, waiting for the door to slam shut behind him so he could lock it. He crowded in with the rest of his team, carefully avoiding the precariously placed easels he already had to contend with earlier when one nearly toppled over onto him. His jaw was set firm as he glared at the godforsaken metal doom wreckers out of the corner of his eye, moving as he did so to his usual spot, the location directly behind the driver's seat, and settled down; it was going to be a long ride back to Texas.  

The competition had went well enough. Nothing spectacular or noteworthy to mention about it.

It was just well. 

To Ted's great fortune, the team had gone out to celebrate the night before they left, a night which featured a round of congratulatory drinks, far too many pats on the back with sweaty palms, and then another two or three rounds of drinks just for the heck of it. Ted couldn't be more pleased. The slight hangover and occasional nausea were side effects Ted could go without, but he could hold a drink pretty well and was confident enough that he remained level headed throughout the whole affair. The same could not be applied universally to his team however, a factor Ted was grateful for as now he wasn't forced to interact with any of them for at least a few solid hours. This left him alone with his thoughts. Both a blessing and a curse as he wished for nothing more than to dwell on the fantasizes his brain had concocted, yet he equally dreaded the forthcoming self-analysis of each blissful fabricated mental sin.

Despite his earlier promise, Ted had found his mind drifting to the cashier during the debate, an issue that was nearly damaging when he began to space out and didn't realize that he was called on to speak.

 _At least it was over now_ , Ted rationalized, and he could now ponder the matter with the comforting solitude his tipsy crew provided him. 

He wished they were en route to that same rest stop in Nevada so he could see Marco. His chest tightened as he considered the possibility of never seeing that man again. It was irrational and uncalled for, the esteem to which he held a person that he'd only just met, one he barely exchanged a mere five words with. It was ridiculous and he should be ashamed by it; he was ashamed by it, but the thought of seeing Marco again left him light-headed with desire, unable to even attempt to pry into the implications his deluded thinking may entail. 

He already planned out their next exchange in his head. The imaginary situation he dreamed up started as a way to pass time until the debate the following day, but the fantasy ended up filling the space in his brain dedicated to cognitive processes, and eventually perpetuated into the night as he lay awake staring blankly at the dark ceiling from his position in the rough hotel cot. And the following day, during the debate, he had to do  _something_ while Samantha droned on about the importance of the establishment clause, a mantra he'd heard her rehearse for hours on end already.  

Yeah, yeah, he knew all about that. Separation of church and state, Thomas Jefferson, the whole nine yards. Who cares? 

He twiddled his thumbs aimlessly, spinning the cord on his headphones between the pads of his fingers as he recalled the idealized version of their second meeting he had created. 

In his mind, his actions were suave and charismatic and he just prayed to the almighty Lord Jesus Christ that this charm was reflected in his personality when he saw Marco again, hoping against the odds that he exclude that pretentious nature his peers claimed he embodied. 

He wasn't sure what he expected out of getting to know Marco. Friendship perhaps? A amiable conversation that ended with an exchange of addresses maybe.  And then when Ted got home, he could revel in the excitement of seeing Marco's name scrawled in messy lettering on the back of an envelope.  And Ted would respond by enclosing his number in the next letter. And their physical messages would turn into late night calls with Ted huddled under his blanket as he spoke in hushed tones to the other man on the phone. 

Ted shook his head, feeling sheepish at the direction his thoughts were taking him. He let his head fall back against the little crevice in between the driver's seat and the metal walls of the van, not the most comfortable resting spot, but it would do. His eyes fell shut on their own accord as his mind slowed down, mere blurry images projecting themselves at random through his visual cortex, distorted shapes and muted hues of brown and gold mixed behind his eyelids as he drifted off to sleep. 

\------------------------------------------------------------

Ted awoke with a stiff neck and a dry mouth. He slowly rolled his neck to the side, hearing the popping sound of released tension and hissing in pain at the sensation it produced.

 A stray thought passed through his half-lucid brain, wondering what it would feel like for Marco's hands to massage the tight muscles and help alleviate the tenderness lingering in his joints.  

He blinked his weary eyes, the action dispelling the thought with it. He glanced longingly at the suitcase across from him he knew was filled with various drinks but he was still too lethargic to rummage through the bag right now. 

Ted stretched a little more, lifting his arms above his head and concaving his back in the process. He heard a satisfying crack and smiled. Ah, much better. 

He checked his watch. 

3:30 pm. 

They should he stopping soon, he thought. He hoped they were stopping soon because the anticipation had been gnawing inside him for too long now and he feared the others would notice his usual degree of restlessness. 

Damn his teenage hormones. 

Just then he heard his mentor's voice.

"Alrighty guys," Storey said in a voice far too cheerful for just having driven about 8 hours. He turned around in his chair as the heads of the seven constitutional corroborators turned to look at him. 

"We're gonna take a break now. "

Ted audibly sighed at this. 

"Thirty minutes."

 As he spoke, Ted felt the van coming to a halt. His eyes drifted to the window, following the line of cars in his direct view until he located the large building. 

This time he held back his sigh at least. 

It was the same place. 

Thank the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Ted wasn't sure what he would have done if they had already driven past it. 

The gang filed out of the van, each person stretching awkwardly at the doorway. Ted wanted them to get the heck out of the way so he could go see Marco already. The other man had been consuming his thoughts for the last 48 hours almost, and at this point Ted just needed to see him again in order to stop his persistent distracting thoughts. 

He pushed past the group, walking briskly as he did so towards the entrance, hoping they would chalk up his impatient demeanor as the need to use the restroom. Although Ted had far more than probable cause to be as impatient as he wanted with those lunkheads already. 

As he sped to the door, Ted was struck with a thought. 

What if Marco wasn't there? He might not be working the same hours or he might not even be working at all today. Ted hadn't even considered the very real notion that Marco wasn't going to be there. 

Had he missed his chance by not talking to Marco more when they first met? 

Stupid, stupid Ted. 

How could he have not even pondered the possibility that Marco wouldn't be there? Good God, he really was losing it.

How dense could he be? So consumed with his own thought not to even have considered Marco's work schedule-

"Ooof!"

_What the heck?_

Ted backed away quickly, realizing too late that he had just walked straight into someone. 

_Get it together, Ted._

"Ah, my bad-" he rushed out, but his words died on his tongue as he realized who exactly he had just bumped head-first into. 

It was his cashier, Marco. 

"Ah, my God! I'm- so sorry," Marco fumbled, his words barely intelligible as he tried to quickly stutter out an apology, but Ted expertly hushed the other man.

"No, it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking," Ted said apologetically, praying to the higher power that he hadn't just ruined everything with his carelessness. 

"It's not a problem, bud. Don't worry about it," Marco said with a friendly tone, the smile gracing his boyish face calmed Ted's frantic nerves.  He felt like he had just died and gone to Heaven (or Hell because he's a sinner, but it didn't matter right now.)

Ted stood there smiling back at Marco until the former broke the silence and spoke, a look of recognition washing over his face a bit too late to be completely natural.

"Hey," Ted began, trying to sound casual, "I remember you. I'm the guy that bought gummy worms the other day." 

Ted suddenly felt very stupid. Lord knows how many people Marco has interacted with these last few days. Why would he remember some skinny nerd like Ted?

But Ted's thoughts were negated when Marco's smile widened and he spoke again. 

"Yeah, I remember you." 

Ted flashed a wider smile back to match Marco. 

_Time to introduce myself._

"My name's Ted," he said as he stuck out his hand to Marco. Marco grasped it, his touch making Ted's senses tingle as if he were teeming with an electric current under his skin.

He tried to keep his cool. 

_Breathe, Ted, breathe._

"Hi. My name's Marco," the cashier said with a pointed nod down toward his name tag. 

"I see that."

Marco responded with a noncommittal sound and Ted realized he didn't know how else to further the conversation without sounding like a creep. 

There was a pause. 

"Well," Marco announced, "I better get back to work." He began walking forward. Noticing that Ted was following suit, he continued speaking. 

"I'm not really supposed to take breaks, even for five minutes. But today's been a pretty slow day." 

"Mhm," Ted said, marveling in the fact that Marco had decided to further the conversation on his own. Being a good conversation partner was a quality Ted held in high regard. 

"Yeah," Marco responded, "it's been a pretty slow season in general. Not many travelers."

Ted was beyond grateful that the cashier was looking ahead of him so he didn't see the nervous sweat forming on Ted's forehead and the patchy reddening of his cheeks. 

 _Get it together, Ted,_  he mentally reprimanded himself for his nervousness. Well, it wasn't as though he was known for his flirtation skills. The last time he tried flirting with anyone was at a party when he was drunk as Hell and it ended with a slap on the face- 

_Wait a second-_

Marco moved back to his position behind that counter and Ted made to grab a bottle of Coke and two more packs of gummy worms so he'd have an excuse to continue talking to Marco and allow himself a moment of reprieve to consider his thoughts. 

He wasn't flirting with Marco, or trying to flirt for that matter. So what if he found the man alluring and was perfecting happy to let him consume his every waking thought? It was totally fine. Completely platonic. Besides, no one could punish him for malignant thoughts. 

He placed his items on the counter for Marco to ring up. He decided he wasn't going to think about his dilemma and would just enjoy Marco's presence.

"So," Ted began, "Do you live around here?"

"Well, yes and no, technically no. I'm living here right now with my family for the last couple of years. Not too far from this place. But I'm from here. I'm originally from Miami."

A beat passed, then Marco inquired, "What about you?" 

"Oh, I'm from Houston." At Marco's surprised expression, Ted elaborated. "Yeah, it's kinda a ways from here, but I'm travelling with a few kids from my school on a trip."

"Where'd ya go?"

"Uh," Ted didn't really want to explain that he'd just spend about 20 hours traveling to Nevada so he could recite sections of the Constitution by memory and then explain them in full detail. Yeah, not really the most smooth thing to mention when making a first impression.

"It was a convention," he settled on. That made him sound both intelligent and mysterious at the same time. Or so he hoped it did. 

There was another pause as Marco calculated the change and reached out to hand it to Ted. Ted inhaled a quick breath as he stretched out his hand and Marco placed the coins in his open palm. Ted lifted two fingers up ever so slightly to slide them across Marco's wrist, right at the pulse point, in a soft gesture, taking careful measure to ensure the other man realized the extra touch was intentional.

It worked. Marco's eyes drifted up from the spot he was looking at on Ted's hand to grace his face, their eyes meeting. 

Ted smiled. 

Marco returned the smile.

"You said today has been a slow day?" Marco nodded in confirmation, slowly bringing his hand back down to rest at his side, and Ted was pretty confident the rosy tinge blooming across Marco's checks hadn't been there a moment ago.

"You wouldn't mind if I hung around for a bit? I have about 20 more minutes to kill." Ted didn't give Marco a chance to respond as he moved behind the cash register and leaned against the counter in a casual stance. 

He took the momentary silence to rip open the gummy worms, taking care to make his movements slow so he knew Marco was watching his lips as he put one in his mouth. He bit the head off the one he was eating and swallowed before sticking out the bag to Marco. 

"Take some," he commanded, and Marco complied, cautiously sticking his hand into the bag jut out in front of him and taking out a candy worm. 

"These are my favorite," Ted said absentmindedly. He risked a glance upwards to see Marco's mouth as he put the candy in between his full lips, his Adam's apple bobbing ever so slightly as he swallowed. 

They talked the whole rest of the time Ted had, about nothing and everything, exchanging little stories about each other while they ate gummy worms and drank Coke. Marco had relaxed in Ted' presence, opening himself up more than he normally would to a complete stranger. It truly was a  slow day as no else did more than browse through the shop without making a purchase, to which Ted was grateful; he wasn't really planning on sharing the limited time he had with Marco.

He learned that Marco was on a sports team in school and that he wasn't exactly the best student. Although he didn't care for sports himself, despite trying his hand at many of them, he listened with rapture as Marco rambled on, recounting his first try-out with a distant smile on his face.

Ted let Marco do most of the talking, and it seemed like conversation came easily to the other man. It wasn't that Ted himself was a bad conversation partner, rather, he tended to talk about obscure subjects his cohorts had no familiarity with. Even the Constitutional Corroborators thought he was weird, an oddity with the social grace of a caveman.

Still, simply listening to Marco speak was not a disappointment in the slightest and Ted was struck with the notion that he could listen to the other man's voice all day.  

Ted didn't realize it was time to go until he heard his name being called.

 "Ted? Ted! Where are you? It's time to leave."

Ted barely suppressed the urge to audibly grunt. He didn't want to leave.

"I'll be right there!" Ted yelled back, hoping the voice had heard his and would end the search for him.

Ted paused for a moment, not making to leave just yet, and he was acutely aware of Marco's eyes following him as he began to gather his belongings.

This was it. 

"Well, it was great talking to you, Marco," Ted said, hovering awkwardly across from the counter. He looked up to meet Marco's eyes . 

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, uh, again," Marco half mumbled, lowering his gaze from Ted's face to stare at a nonexistent dirt spot on the countertop. 

"Um, listen, I gotta go now, but if you wanna talk more, uh, here." Ted quickly grabbed one of the pens laying discarded next to the register and scribbled his number on the back of his receipt with his name underneath.

"You can reach me anytime," Ted said in a slightly nervous voice. He hoped Marco would contact him. 

"Sure. Thanks," said Marco as he folded up the slip of paper and tucked it into his pocket. 

Ted gave a little nod before making to walk back. He turned his head over his shoulder quickly, catching one last glimpse of the back of Marco's head, before making his way back to the van. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and tell me what you think of this chapter. 
> 
> I was going to have the boys email each other but then I realized emailing wasn't widely available for public use in the 80s lol. I'll have to save that for a modem early 21c AU...

**Author's Note:**

> Just a disclaimer: Storey is an actual dude who I know nothing about except that I read in an article that he was the mentor of sorts for Ted's Constitution squad. This is just my take on what it was like being in that, ah, organization. 
> 
> Did I exaggerate young Marco Rubio's looks? No, because he was beautiful even when he was a nerdy looking high schooler. Also, why is Marco working in some random shop in Nevada? Well, he did live in Vegas, but that was when he was a boy so I'm just making shit up because I need to satisfy my crubio need.


End file.
